When Summer Comes, Plant Me Flowers
by MarshmallowSun
Summary: Russia is curious as to why America has started acting nicer to him, and when he realises that the American might just like him, he wonders if maybe he feels the same...
1. Chapter 1

SOOOO... I was bored. I call this fic my rainbow, because the idea of it came from today when I was watering my sunflower seedlings, and for seeds you spray them rather than water them. So then I randomly sprayed stuff and I saw a rainbow and I was happy then the damn sun left so I was sad :(  
So yeah. AAAANYWAY. I'll shut up.

* * *

"America."

Alfred span around at the sound of his name. He grinned when he saw who had called out.  
"Hey, commie! What can I do for ya?"

Russia sighed dramatically at the name. "Really, America, is that all you've got? Commie?"

America's grin widened. "I'd like to see you do better, commie!"

"You know very well that I refuse to sink to your level of childish name-calling, America. However, if you wish, I can recount in detail every single mistake you have made in the last five years. Or, if that's not enough, I will start at the beginning of 'America'. Shall I do that?" Russia smirked as Alfred's grin faded.

"No, no, it's alright... Really. Although you sure have a good memory... I can't remember half the things I did. I can't even remember what I had for dinner last night."

"Of course you wouldn't." Russia nodded. "The nations all went to a pub and you especially got drunk. England was worse off than you, as you can imagine. It was quite amusing, actually. I believe that me and Japan were the only ones who didn't get drunk. Honestly, silly American, you really should be careful about how much alcohol you consume. You do not have much tolerance for it. Compared to me, anyway."

America laughed. "Yeah, compared to you. What's your record, twelve bottles of vodka?"

Russia pretended to look offended. "Really, America. You think so little of me! I can drink thirty-seven bottles, one after the other, without getting drunk. Although that's as far as I've tried. I could probably drink more if I so wished, though there is little point in drinking that much vodka at once."

America stared at the Russian. "Woaaah... It must be your communist powers that allow you to do that! Cause that's insane! Thirty-seven! Sheesh!"

Russia giggled. "America is so cute~! Thinking that my past beliefs somehow control my alcohol tolerance~!"  
America made a 'hmph' sound at being called 'cute' and for being teased by the Russian. He was about to voice his annoyance when England's voice interrupted him.  
"Hey, everyone! Break's over! Get in here, we're starting the meeting in two minutes!"  
America sighed. "Well then, we'll talk later I guess."  
"Da," Russia replied, following America and the other nation's inside the meeting room.  


* * *

:) short chapter is short. Anyway.  
Yeah, so I should probably be updating Willing Slave and my other fics instead of making new ones but...  
IDK. Anyway, please review :)  
May or may not change to M, don't know.. Probably not, lol. We'll see, dears, we'll see...


	2. Chapter 2

Russia stared at the American sitting across from him.  
As it was the start of the meeting, America was in fact paying attention to what was being said.  
Currently England was re-capping what had been discussed before the break, and outlining the points that were the topic for the next part of the meeting.

Russia wasn't really listening to the Englishman. He was occupied by his own thoughts, and besides he, unlike some of the others, could remember what had been said previously, and he knew what the topic for this section of the meeting was.  
He was thinking about his earlier conversation with America.  
They had been on such bad terms just a few months ago, until the American had come up to him and saying that maybe they could be friends. He claimed it was because he was the hero, and that he felt bad for the Russian who had been alone for so long. Russia wondered if that was the only reason. He had a nagging feeling that there was something else that the other wasn't telling him, but he couldn't tell what it was.

So Russia had decided to ask him today, waiting until the break to speak to the other man.  
Then they had started their usual fight, a friendly assault of words, that had become almost tradition between them now. Russia decided that he liked it, it was fun annoying the American like this, not being mean, just a gentle teasing. America had such a limited vocabulary, his only insult seemed to be 'commie' or 'red'...

Russia remembered a time several years ago, when the blond was still his 'enemy'. Russia had said something, mocking the American about his obsession with hamburgers or something. America had been furious, and had started yelling "commie bastard!" at him. Russia remembered how much he had wanted to hurt the other then, get his faucet pipe he loved so much, and make America bleed the red Ivan loved so much.  
But he hadn't.  
As annoyed as he was, he couldn't bring himself to harm the man who so fiercely resembled the sunflowers he loved.

And so he had simply glared as the idiot American continued his assault of 'commie bastard' and 'damn Ruski!'

Such useless insults, and yet they really got on his nerve.

Thinking back, Ivan wondered why he hadn't beaten up the other. Surely not _just _because he held an uncanny resemblance for his favourite flower?  
But if that wasn't the only reason, why? Maybe he would ask America later. Although he doubted that the idiot had any idea. All he seemed to think about was hamburgers and his delusions of 'heroes'...  
Russia sighed. It was all too complicated.  
He tuned back into the conversation, now Korea was speaking, something about how everything was made by him. China was muttering, "does that mean that all the world's problems were created by you too, aru?"  
Several of the nations chuckled. Korea answered back, "No, those were made by my big brother China da ze!"

The conversation appeared to be going nowhere, so Russia returned to his thoughts. He imagined he was standing in a field surrounded by sunflowers, the sun was shining and it was warm... And then suddenly Alfred appeared, saying something about "it's all over..."

Russia woke up with a start. He hadn't noticed that he had fallen asleep. He saw a pair of bright blue eyes centimetres away from his own. America grinned. "Commie fell asleep!" he laughed, patting Ivan on the back.  
Russia blinked once or twice. "What is it?"  
"Meeting's over! Man, you slept the whole time, huh? No one dared wake you up! But now we're all leaving, it's the hero's job to wake you up, yeah? Anyway, I'm dying for coffee and Arthur's busy. With France. In the closet down the hall. Stay away, for your own good..." Alfred shuddered. "Anyway... Will you come with me?"

Russia's head was spinning. His mind was still weighed down with sleep, and the American spoke so fast about nothing... Something about staying away from French closets in England... and coffee... And heroes. ...What?

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.  
"Coffee!" America answered impatiently.  
"Is a beverage. What about it?"

"I want some! I need it!"  
"Go buy some then!" Russia really didn't see why this was important. Maybe he could go find this French closet and figure out why it was so interesting...

"Come with me!"

Russia looked up from the table and at the blond. "...What?"

"Come with me, I said!"  
"Why not England?"  
America started jumping up and down, his hands on the Russian's shoulders. "I told you! He's banging France!"

So that's why he should stay away from closets.  
It was probably a good thing, too. He really didn't need to know the details of the Frenchman's sex life.

"So, will you come?"

"...Alright."

* * *

Second chapter 8D  
I seriously have no idea where this is going XDDD  
Anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

Third chap~!  
A huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed~  
It really makes my day and keeps me writing... Especially when I really can't write... So thank you~~  
And without further ado, here we go! This chapter was really fun (but hard) to write XD

* * *

Russia sighed as he tried futilely to keep up with the eccentric blond. Wasn't Alfred usually lazy and against any kind of exercise? But then, when food was involved... Nothing could stop him.

Russia exhaled again. Why exactly did he come, again?  
Because the American wouldn't leave him alone if he refused.

Oh well. He didn't have much choice.  
Ivan scanned the crowd in front of him, trying to find Alfred in the sea of people.

It was no use, he was gone. Ivan had been left to find the idiot on his own.

"Whatcha doing, commie?"  
Russia jumped at the voice, turning to see the American grinning at him.  
"I was looking for you," he replied. "If you want me to come somewhere with you, you're going to have to stop running off like that."

America pouted. "Where's the fun in that?"

"I thought you were strongly against any form of walking?"

"Yeah, it's against my religion! But, I need coffee. Like, now. So hurry up, commie! C'mooooonnn!" America grabbed Ivan's arm and dragged the Russian forward.  
Russia sighed and allowed himself to be pulled along. Might as well let the American have his way, the sooner they got there the sooner he could leave. Although, this was the perfect chance to ask his questions...

Russia opened his mouth to speak. "Alfred..."

America turned around. "I'm Alfred now?" he asked in surprise.  
Ivan blinked. He hadn't noticed that he had called the blond by his human name.  
"Ah... I'm sorry... England is always calling you that, I said that by accident..." he said, feeling slightly embarassed for some reason.  
America laughed. "It's okay, we're friends, yeah? Call me Alfred or America, it's up to you. I'd call you Ivan but I'm used to calling you Red or Commie so... That's okay, though, isn't it? If you don't like it I'll try to stop but..." he looked away, causing him to walk into a bin. "Shit."

Ivan smiled. "Ah... Okay... And you can call me whatever you want, I guess... But... When did we become friends? I don't believe that the term 'friend' falls on to individuals who participated in something like the Cold War? Or is the definition very different to you Americans?"

America looked at the Russian in surprise. "Of course we're friends! I mean, sure we weren't on the best terms always but you know, stuff happens. Like Justin Bieber. Not sure what was going on there, I mean, I'm mostly awesome but some of my people are like, why was this guy born. But y'know. Well. We... Can be friends, right...? Cause I... I really want to be able to be friends with you. Yeah." At Russia's slightly confused expression he added hastily, "Because I'm the hero, that's the only reason, okay? Don't get any weird ideas! I... I just... That is... Oh screw this." He tried to rub the red from his cheeks. "Damnit... Uhhh... Yeah... OH LOOK!" Alfred pointed excitedly at the sign, indicating the cafe that was their destination.  
_'Thank god... That was getting really awkward... Hopefully Ivan will forget that, at least until I work up the courage to tell him...' _America thought as he followed the taller man inside, heart-beat still racing from the narrow escape from what could have been extremely awkward and embarrassing for both of them.

* * *

Hehehheh first hints of yaoi~~

Yeah. I'm listening to weird japanese/french/italian music... it's weird. Blonde redhead, anyone else heard of them? Idk. It's my dad's music. Lol.  
Speaking of, does anyone know some good songs? As in, foreign music XDD English is good and all but songs in other languages are epic. So yeah.  
ANYWAY. Love you guys as always, see you next chapter~~!


	4. Chapter 4

WELL it's a bit later than expected... Sorry...  
OH just wanted to mention, YES PEOPLE JUSTIN BIEBER IS CANADIAN.  
The Justin Bieber thing is a kind of in-joke... that only I get.  
BASICALLY because America has no idea who or what Canada is, he blames himself for all of Canada's faults and praises himself for anything Canada has done or made that he likes, if that makes any sense :D

OH and I made a note to myself to tell you all that it's set in Australia. cas its teh sex. and because I can. Well actually I think thats what it meant. Seriously, you should see the notes I write to myself. Half of them don't make any sense... lol. oh well. I -usually- figure out their meaning so its all good... Maybe. Anyway, without further delay, chapter four~

* * *

Ivan looked at the menu that was written on the wall in big letters. Most of the drinks had names he'd never heard of, but he recognised a few of them. As he was here, he may as well order something, though he wasn't really in the mood for coffee.. Maybe he would just get water or something.  
Ivan turned around to ask America what he was getting. The American was flailing around, probably looking for something that either he'd dropped or left at the conference. Or, most probably, was in his pocket. He really was an idiot.

"What are you looking for?" Russia asked.

America looked up, his face pink and flustered. "Uh... That badge... the one that says "hero".. I took it off in the meeting and it's not in my pocket..."  
Ivan laughed softly. Typical American. "You mean the one that's pinned to your jacket?"

Alfred's hands went to his jacket where he usually stuck the badge. "Oh," he mumbled as his fingers reached the metal disk. "Ummm... right... Thanks... I guess... Eh heh..." His face turned redder and he looked at the ground in shame and embarrassment.

"So what are you getting?" Ivan decided to change the subject.  
"Uhhhhhh... I don't know. Coffee. Yeah." Alfred replied. He pulled several notes out of his pocket.  
"Oh." He looked at the notes, suddenly realising something.  
"Da?"

Alfred returned his gaze to the Russian. "Do you think they'll accept US money...?"

Ivan just sighed. He should have known that America was far too in love with himself to exchange a single one of his notes for one of any other currency. And besides, thinking ahead was not the American's forte.

"Nyet, I doubt it." Ivan replied.  
Alfred moaned. "But I need coffee... Daaaaamniiiit!"

Russia grabbed Alfred's arms to prevent said American from flailing around as he always did when he was frustrated. "I will pay for it.. Just calm down."  
It took a moment for the Russian's words to get through to shorter nation. "What...? You'll what...?"  
"Buy you coffee."

"Really?" America's eyes lit up as he threw himself at the other. "Ohhhh thankyou-thankyou-thankyou-thankyooooou~~!"

"Yes, yes, that's very nice.. Get off!" Russia told the blond, trying to pull away from the younger man's embrace.  
Alfred pulled away grinning. "Sorry... Coffee is very important is all... Speaking of, what should I get?"

Ivan sighed and told him that he'd order something ("It has to be strong!"), so would America please go wait at a table.  
Ivan made the order, getting juice for himself and what he hoped would satisfy Alfred before walking over to join America at the 'perfectly chosen' table.

"Oh, hey... Thanks..." America mumbled, running his fingers through his hair.  
"Hm? Oh, it's fine.. Coffee is among the less expensive values of the world... Well, valuable to those who enjoy it.."  
America looked shocked. "How could anyone not like coffee? Name three people you know who don't like it! And they can't be from like a million years ago when coffee wasn't discovered!"

Russia stared at him and said eventually, "For starters, how old do you think I am? A million years old? Honestly, America, you're not the brightest, are you? And to name a few, myself, England and France. I could continue if you wish? China, Japan..."  
"I-it's alright, I get it..." America interrupted. Damn he needed to change the topic...  
Thankfully, a waitress came just then with their drinks. The two men thanked her politely, Ivan sipping at the cold juice as he watched Alfred finish the coffee in one go.

"Shit that was good," he sighed, happy now that he had had his caffeine.  
"It must've been," Russia commented, raising an eyebrow. "Do you not have tastebuds?"  
America glared at him. "Hey, it was good coffee. Shut up about that guy who sees himself as my father and can't cook to save his life. I can taste more things than just delicious!"

Russia shook his head. "Nyet, I did not mean that. I was referring to the temperature. Coffee is usually hot, da? I am simply surprised you didn't burn your tongue."  
"Ohhh I see," America replied, looking at the empty mug in front of him. "Well, I guess it's just like... After, what, 1200 years or something of drinking it, I guess you kinda develop an immunity, y'know? Like you and that poison you drink."  
"Vodka is not poison!"  
"Neither is coffee! Y'see? You have your vodka, I have my coffee. Therefore I declare we call this one a tie, alright?"

Russia just stared at him. "What exactly is that meant to mean...?"  
America blinked at looked at him. "Uhhh... I'm not really sure..."  
"Do you feel okay?" Russia asked, wondering if the blond's idiocy was taking its toll on him.  
"Uh, yeah... sure Mattie will make you pancakes... Wait, who's Mattie? Is there something you're not telling me?"  
"Your brother."  
"I have a brother? Noooo, silly, I'm not a gangster, I'm a god damn celebrity. You'll see. Just you wait."

"...I think it's time to go..." Russia decided, finishing his juice and standing up, indicating for America to do the same.  
Alfred stood up, still ranting about the piece of land above him, and whether or not it was part of him.  
Russia sighed, and walked over to drag America away from the table.

They were both occupied, and so neither of them noticed as one of the waitresses giggled and pocketed her name tag, that read "Elizaveta", and walked away, daydreaming about the results of the drug she had put in the blond nation's coffee. Even if she couldn't film them - she had her ex boyfriend to stalk- she could still help reach her goal, operation Make All the Guy Nations Gay, one couple at a time...

* * *

Short chapters are short. It'll probably be like this all the way through, not sure yet.  
Weeell according to my friend coffee was invented/discovered/whatever in 800AD so yeah, sorry if that's incorrect. And Alfie probably wouldn't have been drinking it since then but OH WELL, shut up people _I_ am the author~! XP  
and OH JA, random twist, adding Hungary. That was a spur of the moment, I must say. Hopefully it isn't a bad one XDDD  
ANYWAY it's helping the story come along...maybe...or not...  
Love ya guys, till next time~!


	5. Chapter 5

SO basically this chapter was killing me. Stupid writers block. -shoots self-  
And so I decided to reread America's song, considering this is connected to it.  
...And suddenly America got ten times more adorable... -dies-  
ANYWAY... Heeere we all are... And the pancake battle is underway~!

* * *

Russia looked at the blond who slept soundly, sprawled out under several layers of blankets. He tightened his scarf around his neck; it was so cold... But not as bad as it was at his place. No, compared to that it was quite warm. He sighed. Then he smiled a little; America was beginning to wake up.  
"Where...?"  
"My house." Russia replied.  
"I'm in Russia?"  
"Nyet, my house in the US."  
America made a strange noise. "You've been sent to spy, is that it? That's why you have a place here! Is it like a secret base? Is there a control room and stuff?"  
Russia sighed and decided he preferred the idiot when he was asleep, or at least unable to talk.

He didn't bother answering, and America didn't seem to mind.  
"This bed's so soft..." he mumbled. "Why is it so soft? Is it, like, to put people's guard down so they're like, hey, this guy's nice, and then you torture them or something? Are you planning on killing me or something? It's a trap, isn't it?"

Russia stared at him. "...Nyet, it's my bed. And why would I want to kill you?"  
America shrugged. "I dunno." He snuggled up into the blankets, they were just as soft. "Damn commie and your soft bed." Then he opened his eyes. "Hang on, why am I in your bed? My God, what did you do to me? And why can't I remember anything?" America sat up, trying desperately to make his brain work.

Russia continued to stare at him, slightly put off by the fact that America thought so little of him. "What are you suggesting? And nyet, I have not touched you! Well, I had to help you walk back from the cafe, and you didn't shut up for a while. Make that for an hour and a half. Honestly, yelling at that blond celebrity who was singing on TV... You haven't changed a bit. Anyway, then, finally, you fell asleep, and I decided that my bed was far more comfortable that the couch so I carried you up."

"Good choice, that." America yawned and hugged the pillow. "But if that's all that happened, why can't I remember anything? And daaaamn, my head hurts..."  
Russia shrugged. "I have a feeling there was something in the coffee... But as to what it was or who put it there, I do not know." He stood up and left the room.

America looked at the door blankly. He felt a bit sad now that Russia was gone... Didn't he care about him? His head was hurting, damnit! And he sure as hell wasn't getting up anytime soon; too much effort.  
Then Russia returned, with a glass of water and a damp cloth. "Here," he said, helping the blond sit up to drink the water, then making him lie down again as he put the cloth on his forehead.

America mumbled a thank you, and closed his eyes, sighing. Russia stayed in the chair near the bed until sleep overcame the blond. Russia went downstairs, to the kitchen. He should probably make something for America, since neither of them had eaten since lunch. There was borscht in the fridge, that Russia had made the day before, but he doubted America would want it, at least not until dinner. Russia looked through the cupboards for something he could turn into something the American would eat. No luck. He would have to go to the shop down the road and get some things. He wrote a quick note for America, in case he woke up, and went back upstairs to put it next to the bed. For a moment, Russia stood there, watching the other man sleep. He looked so peaceful...  
And, Russia thought, sort of cute...

Wait, what? Did he just call his old enemy cute? What was going on?  
Russia shook his head and left the room without a backward glance. "Back in ten minutes, Amyerika..." he murmured, closing the wooden door softly behind him.

-  
A few minutes passed, Russia was picking out vegetables, and America was beginning to wake up.  
Sitting up, he scanned the room, reaching out for Texas so that he could see properly. "...Russia?" he asked. His heart sank when he realised that the other was not in the room. Where had he gone?

Then he noticed a note on the table next to him. America picked it up and read it. _"I am going to the shops to buy ingredients for dinner. I will make hamburgers, since you love them so much. Hopefully you are feeling better, I will be back soon, try to keep resting until I return."_

America smiled when he had finished reading it. Russia was going to make hamburgers? America laughed at the thought of Russia cooking, for some reason it was funny. Still smiling, America lay back down, deciding to rest like Russia had told him to. Although damn he wanted to explore the house, and look for all the commie spy equipment that surely was hidden here somewhere. Since he didn't know when Russia would be getting back, America decided to settle for searching the room. Hopefully he would have a chance to explore the rest of the house later...

The shelves were empty of any suspicious gadgets or books, and so was the closet. America was beginning to give up, and decided to go back to sleep, or at least pretend to until Russia returned. But not before looking under the bed. America crouched down and tried to see what was there, but it was too dark. Damn, he would need a torch. America sat back up, sighing in defeat. He would have to continue his mission later..  
America flopped back onto the bed, immediately wondering why he gotten up in the first place. "So sooooooft..." he mumbled, snuggling under the sheets.  
America heard the front door open, and smiled. Russia was back. Moments later, Russia entered the room, smiling when he saw that America was awake.

"Hungry?" he asked.  
America nodded, half interested and half scared about how the hamburgers would turn out. He would have to supervise...  
"I'll start making them... Are you going to go back to sleep or get up?" Russia asked.  
"I'll get up..." America replied. "I'll help make dinner.."  
"You don't trust me?" Russia smirked.  
"Nah, not that..." America decided it was best not to tell him that he wanted to watch him cook... "I just wanna help, y'know? Yeah."  
Russia nodded, still smirking. "Da, da, sure. Come on then, might as well start, da?"

America nodded back, jumping up and following the Russian downstairs to the kitchen.


	6. Chapter 6

WELL. Fanfic was screwing up and Isn't letting me upload FFFFFFF So I'm halfway through chapter 10... Sorry bout this.  
At any rate, when it DOES let me upload again, you'll have several chapters at once :D Aren't you lucky! ^^  
OH and I should mention that I was half asleep when I was writing this and the next chapter so they. are. weeeeird... -is shot- ANYWAY, -try to- Enjoy~!

* * *

The next half hour was filled with laughter, friendly arguments and noise. When the two nations had finished cooking, they had to agree that they had made more mess than food, but they had had a good time so neither of them really minded. Several hamburgers later, they were both full and content.  
"What now?" America licked the last bit of ketchup off his fingers. "And damn, we rule. Best burgers ever." He paused. "Wait, no, McDonalds is still better. But yeah, awesome anyways. Of course, it's all thanks to me!"

Russia raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying that I cannot cook?"  
America's eyes widened and he shook his head. "No, no! Of course not! Your meat frying skills are kick-ass! But I'm still king of cheese placing! Am I right or am I right?"  
Russia laughed. "Da, da, sure. It was most amusing watching you perfect the burgers! It took three minutes and seventeen seconds to be satisfied with how the cheese was arranged! And that was only the first burger!"

America blushed a little. "Why the hell were you keeping track of how long I took? And 'sides, burgers are _art_! Needs to be _perfect_!" he huffed and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.  
Russia giggled at the blond's reaction. "Vipachte, I did not mean to offend you or your favourite food. Anyway," he decided to change the topic. "What do you want to do? Are you planning on returning to your house?"  
America blinked. "Oh, uh, I dunno... I hadn't thought about it... But, if it's alright, can I stay here for a while longer? I seeeeriously can't be stuffed to get up.."

America looked at the table. He didn't want to leave just yet, not when he was getting along so well with Russia... Of course, he couldn't stay _too _long... He didn't to say or do something to embarrass himself...  
He decided to make the most of the next few hours. After all, there was the possibility that once he finally admitted that he was in love with the Russian.. Then maybe it would be too awkward to talk to each other.  
America realised that he had never thought of what would happen after he confessed. He didn't really think the chances of Russia liking him back were very high, but there was always a chance, right?  
He just hoped it didn't get in the way of their friendship... He sighed. It was all too complicated for him, thinking just wasn't his thing. He had internet and England for that.

"Da... If you want to. I do not think there is anything that you would find particularly interesting here, though..." Russia replied.  
America nodded slowly. "That's okay! What do you want to do?"  
Russia looked upwards for a second. "Uhhh... I'm not sure. I could try to find my cards, if you want to play a card game?"  
America shook his head. "Nahh, last time I played a card game it was strip poker, with the other six guys. That was at that party that England kicked you out of, remember? Yeah, after that Italy suggested we play and... Yeah... Mind scarring... One word for ya; France. Need I say more..." he shuddered. _It would've been better with you there... _he added silently, before mentally kicking himself. _NO. Shut up, brain, or I won't eat icecream for a week. Then you'd be sorry, wouldn't you?_

Russia nodded slowly. He understood how traumatising it would be, having to play strip poker with France... _Poor Alfred_, he thought. _But maybe it was better that I wasn't there. But then, if I was, maybe then they wouldn't have played in the first place?  
_America looked a bit spaced out and worried, so he said, "Da... Well, I don't have any movies... Unless you happened to bring one with you?"

America snapped out of his thoughts immediately and nodded, glad for the distraction. "Yeah, I have my USB! It has some good shit on it~" he pulled the memory stick out of his pocket and held it out to Russia. Russia took it, standing up and getting his laptop out of his bag, turning it on and setting it up next to his TV while America took their plates to the kitchen and placing them next to the sink. Once the computer was on, America opened a file labeled Movies and telling Russia to choose something while he connected the computer to the TV.  
Russia read out the list of movies, not surprised that nearly all of the films were American. "America?" he said suddenly. America looked up at the screen, to where Russia was pointing.  
America turned red and immediately looked away. Shit, he'd forgotten about that. "What about it?"

"You have a documentary on the Cold War."  
"Yeah well. It's all wrong anyway."  
"So why do you have it?"

America stared intensely at the carpet, not wanting to reply, but then again if he didn't, Russia might look through the other videos he had and he REALLY didn't want that to happen so- "For laughs. The people explaining it, they're so wrong! They don't know anything!" He looked back to Russia, his usual idiotic grin in place. "Wanna watch it? Yeahhh let's watch it! It's funny as shit!" _Don't scroll down further. Don't scroll down. Don't scroll down. Don't-  
_

"Daa... if you want to, I guess." Russia replied, looking at the blond quizzically. Why was he acting so strangely? Russia could see straight through the mindless grin America wore, though he didn't say anything.  
"YOSH~!" Alfred sang, trying to mimic his childish and idiotic personality as he snatched the laptop away from Russia, trying not to notice how shaky and unnecessarily loud his laugh was.

"SUCCESS~! Point to the hero!" America cheered when he got the show working. He gestured for Russia to sit down as he fiddled with the volume. The next problem was, if he sat as far away from the Russian as he could, would it seem too unfriendly? But if he sat too close... UGH screw this. If he kept acting all jumpy and suspicious Russia would know something was up...  
Russia seemed to be waiting for America to say something more, or to join him on the couch. Hastily, he said, "Wouldn't happen to have any popcorn, would ya? Nah, probably not, eh? Doesn't matter." Trying his best to seem indifferent, he sat down on the couch, two 'Texas lengths' apart- his own measurement; one Texas-length was equal to the around six inches- roughly the length of his glasses.  
_Not too close, not too far... Perfect. Must be my heroic powers... Obviously~  
_  
Russia reached out to turn the lights out. America grinned at him once more, picked up the remote and pressed play.


	7. Chapter 7

BECAUSE I CAN:  
1. Sorry to all my lovely Canadians reading this. I love you. And your country. But I love teasing Mattie so very, very much~ So, sorry. :D  
2. YEAHHH, so I measure things in 'Texas-lengths' all the time now... God I fail.  
and 3. WELL this chapter was fun BD even though I was SO. DAMN. TIRED. I nearly died o_O" Or not.  
...anyway moving on... HEEEERE we are, a chapter just for you, my lovelies~!

* * *

"That's not why it started!"

"What is that even meant to mean?"

"NO I DIDN'T!"

Half an hour had past. Neither men could do much more than laugh.  
"See, I told you!" America grinned at Russia. "It is pure win!"  
"Da," Russia smirked. "It is obviously American!"

"NO WAY!" America looked horrified. "No way could any of my people be that ignorant! It must be from that guy above me!"  
"You mean Canada?"

"I don't know his name! But yeah, that sounds right."  
"He's your brother."

"HECK NO HE'S NOT! I DO NOT HAVE A BROTHER WITH A NAME THAT SOUNDS LIKE SOME KIND OF DRUG! And 'sides, all his people are like, whatever. AND. HE HAS JUSTIN BIEBER."

"A few hours you were blaming yourself for that kid," Russia pointed out.

America gave him a look that would scare anyone who wasn't Russia half to death. "What are you taaaalking abouuuut, ya commie? Like hell I would! That guy is so obviously from Canadia or whatever you said that guy's name was! SEE? IT SOUNDS LIKE CANNABIS OR SOMETHING! RIGHT? RIGHT?" Alfred collapsed back onto the couch, sprawled out uncomfortably; legs over the arm, his torso half off the seat and his head twisted around 'a Texas length' away from Russia.

Ivan stared at the other man. "That cannot possibly be comfortable..."  
America attempted to nod. "It's fine, man, it's fine. I do this kinda thing all the time~!"

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me.." And yet, Russia didn't fully believe him. The blond was obviously in discomfort... Ivan was surprised he hadn't been shoved over or something; he remembered a time a century or two ago, when they were on okay terms. America had decided that Russia was taking up too much of the sofa and had proceeded to use him as a footrest...  
So why wasn't he doing so now? They were friends again now, right? Russia was getting very confused. It wasn't like America to be shy, so that couldn't be it... Perhaps he didn't realise that Russia accepted him as a friend? But then, America acted like he was the king of the world so that wasn't it, either...

And anyway, why was Russia so concerned over this? Because there was nothing better to do? But he could return to watching the inaccurate documentary that was still playing.. Or he could use this time to ask America his questions. But first, he couldn't continue looking at America looking when he was so obviously uncomfortable. But there was no way of suggesting that America lean on him or something without it being awkward so Ivan decided to simply act.

Before the blond could protest, Russia shifted as much as he could into the arm on his side of the sofa, turned to face Alfred a little better and then grabbed said American and moved him so that he was sitting upright and leaning into Ivan's chest.

Alright, it was slightly awkward, but at least now America wasn't at risk of damaging his spine..

America made a small noise of complaint, but didn't make any move to pull away, although he did squirm around a bit, until he realised that Russia didn't have any intention of removing the arm that was wrapped around his waist. Alfred blushed a little. "What the heck, commie?"

"Well, it is more comfortable than your previous position, da? That is okay, isn't it?" Russia wondered if he should move his arm... Not that he could really move it anyway, but he wasn't sure if America was okay with it being there or not.

"I-I suppose..." America mumbled. His leg was hanging off the couch so he crossed it over his other leg.  
Unconsciously he leaned back a bit more into Russia. Then, realising what he'd done he froze. Hopefully the other hadn't noticed..

Russia, oblivious, decided he might as well ask some of his questions. For a second or two he wondered how to ask it, and decided to be blunt. "Why do you have so many videos on my history?"

The reaction was immediate. America stiffened, his face turning bright red. Shit, he'd seen them. And double shit, how was he meant to answer to that?

Well, sometimes they did it in movies so- _Retreat!_  
Hastily he stood up. "I...I need to get home.." He grabbed his jacket he had carelessly tossed on the floor and made for the door. Russia was quicker though, pressing his hand to the wooden door, pressing against it with all his weight. _You're not getting away that easily, Alfred F. Jones...  
_"Forgetting something~?" He held out the American's USB, grinning.

Alfred snatched out for it but Russia swung his hand away. "Nyet, you're not getting it back, not till you answer the question~!"

America gritted his teeth. "Fine, I can do without it!" Shit, there had to be another door...

"Also, there's only one door so I suggest you give up~!"

Well shit.

Hang on, this place had windows. Yeah, how heroic that would be, escaping through the window...  
Alfred rushed back to the living room -Russia right behind him-, and opened the curtains to see-

"Hmmm, looks like a snowstorm out there!"

"SHIT."

"No escaping now, da~?"

Annoyingly, he was right. The damn commie was always right.

"Y-yeah..."


	8. Chapter 8

FFF another short chap.. HOWEVER it was fun to write :D  
Here ya go~

* * *

America sighed. Well shit.

Russia walked back over to the sofa, gesturing for America to do the same. After a few seconds' hesitation America did so, sitting pressed against the arm, he really didn't want to be anywhere Russia right now..

"So, would you like to explain?" Russia asked, his voice taking its usual innocent tone that anyone with half a brain could see straight through.

Alfred racked his brain desperately for something -anything- he could say. Somehow "Well, you know, I just casually watch videos about your childhood, cause that's totally normal and not at all stalkerish" didn't seem appropriate.

Russia waited patiently for an answer. He wasn't in any hurry, and he loved watching people's faces when they were embarrassed or didn't want to answer. He loved tormenting people in general, really, but America's reactions were just so utterly hilarious and adorable. Russia had to bite his lip to keep himself from smirking.  
He had no idea how America would answer- probably something about how the hero had to find out everything about the villain or something equally ridiculous.

America opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He tried again, and finding his voice, he said, "W-well... I dunno, this one time I was like, mega bored so I was thinking about what to do and then I was like, hey, I don't even know anything about that commie, so I decided to find out... And... Shit, man, I didn't realise how screwed up some of your history was.. I felt kinda bad for always insulting you, and decided to be friends with you again."  
Alfred took a deep breath and then continued,  
"But somewhere along the line, I realised that- th-that... That I... I... You.. Uhhm.. Th-that is, that I.. I... I...! ARHHHHH KHHFFFFFFFFFFHHH!"

His cheeks were on fire and he brought his legs up, hiding his face from view of the Russian. God, he couldn't tell him this time either... And SHIIIIT it was too damn hard... _Screw this, I don't think I'll ever tell him..  
Khhhhhhh..._

Russia stared at him, trying to make sense of what the blond had said. So, Alfred had decided to find out about his past, and after discovering that it wasn't a happy one.. that was why America had wanted to become friends? How cute. But also, how selfish. Who was he to judge Ivan's history? Not that the American was fully incorrect, of course... Russia sighed.  
Anyway, what had Alfred been trying to say before he broke off? Russia was only getting more confused..  
America didn't look like he particularly wanted to continue the conversation, so Russia didn't press for answers. He had other questions, after all.

"But if that is why your wished to recover our old friendship," Russia began slowly. "Then why are you still at it? Vipachte if I make it sound like you are uncommitted but you do seem to lose interest in things within a month.. So why are you still trying so hard?"

_Ohh, he is so dense... Or am I really that hard to read? _America wondered. He pulled his face from his leg and rested his head on his knee, looking at the Russian, contemplating his options.

Then, before he realised what he was saying; before he had time to think, he had spoken. There was no way out now.

"Well... It's because I love you."


	9. Chapter 9

OH MY GOD I AM SORRY PEOPLE I have had maaaajor writer's block and haven't been able to write lately :/ Please don't kill me :3  
ALSO I hate this chapter. I'M SORRY my brain is slowly deteriorating... Blame society. Blame everything on society, everything will turn out better if you do :D  
At any rate, here you go... another fail chapter... I'm not even sure what was going on when I wrote it. BUT ANYWAY.

* * *

Luck had never been on Alfred's side. Never.  
One would think that surely, if he had had to put up with shit for so long, surely -surely- that for just once in his life, he would wake up on the right side of the metaphorical bed, that he would find the key to the metaphorical door, but no.  
No, instead he copped a hell lot of unfair shit, he screwed up one time more than he should, let slip what he shouldn't, was caught out at the things he REALLY didn't want people finding out he was doing- like stealing cookies when he was younger. No matter how many times he was caught, he always managed to choose to swipe a cookie at the same time that Arthur decided to wander into the kitchen. Alfred was unable to count how many times that had screwed him over.

But America's bad luck didn't end there. It extended to nearly all games he played- especially poker and _especially _ strip poker. He never seemed to be able to do anything right. Every time he tried, something inevitably went wrong, whether it was getting a bad hand of cards or telling someone something he shouldn't have.  
Still, America trudged through it because surely, one day when he really needed it, luck would smile at him and everything would be okay.

Today, however, seemed to be a normal day. He was Mr Unlucky again. Sure, he had had a fun day hanging out with Ivan but now...  
Luck hadn't smiled at him, it had laughed in his face and made him go ahead and blurt _that_ out. What had he done for God to hate him so much? Couldn't he just have one day where everything went well? No, apparently not. It had toyed with him, making him feel hopeful; giving him a day of pure happiness, hanging out with Ivan, and then...  
It had dropped him into an abyss of a mix of emotions- negative of course- shame, embarrassment, self-resentment; and all he could do was wait until he hit the bottom and Ivan responded.

Ivan stared at the blond for what seemed like an eternity. "You... What?"  
Alfred blushed even redder. "I- I said, I love you..! I- I mean... Ahhh I hate this... Look, just don't say anything, alright? It's bad enough that I admitted it without you taunting me! So just... Just don't. I- I'll wait till the weather clears up then I'll go, okay? Then you don't have to have anything to do with me ever again, alright? S-so yeah..." He curled up tightly, flinching when Ivan put a hand on his shoulder.

"A-America... I..." Russia broke off, unsure of what to say. He didn't wish to hurt the American's feelings, but he couldn't lie that he felt the same way about Alfred. He sighed. "Alfred, you know I would never tease you about something you said if it was said in complete seriousness. I cannot say that I feel the same way about you, however I do not dislike you and I do not want this to get in the way of our friendship." Briefly, Ivan wondered if that sounded too harsh. It would have to do. "You do not have to leave, and besides, I can tell that the snowstorm will not pass any time soon, so leaving is not an option."  
Ivan gave the blond's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Alright?"

Alfred sniffled. Russia hadn't laughed or been disgusted. He may have sounded a bit too blunt with saying he did not love America back, but then, Alfred knew that he had never really been good with speaking his mind, and Alfred understood that. As always Russia was a bit awkward with explaining things, especially when it had a sense of emotional value. Knowing that, America pieced together than Ivan was apologising for not loving him but still trying to maintain their friendship. America smiled a little and tried to stop the tears flowing uncontrollably. He lifted his head and smiled weakly at the Russian.  
"Thank you..." he whispered.

Ivan attempted to return the smile. He reached out and wiped the tears from Alfred's face. "Now, now, no crying, hm?" he moved his hand from America's face to his shoulder and gently pulled him into a hug. America sniffed again and hugged him back. "I... I'm sorry... I know how awkward it can be to hang out with someone when you know they like you..."

"And you know this because...?"

"Arthur. Disturbing, eh? But he was like, stalking me for ages until I set France after him in hopes to stop him and look where it led. I... I'm sorry... Truly, truly sorry... I know it puts our friendship in a weird position.." Alfred buried his face in Russia's chest.

"Don't be sorry," Russia replied. "I... As you know, I've been alone for so long... Just knowing that someone loves me.. It makes me so happy! Um.. Da."

America smiled and yawned suddenly. "I'm tiiiiiiired..." he said, shifting around a bit. "Sleep now. Sensible conversation can wait till tomorrow."  
Russia smiled back. "Da, sure. Just one thing."

America looked up at him. "What is it?"

"Where are you planning on sleeping?"


End file.
